


Fireflies

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Daisy is not a monster, Drinking, F/M, Fireflies, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Mack and his horror movies, Make Daisy Happy, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Teasing, coulson's past, everglades, sentimental Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 14:36:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6570097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy just wants a moment of quiet.  Phil just wants to make Daisy happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireflies

The Zephyr-1 is parked in the open field and she walks down the ramp as the evening breeze washes over the tall grass, making it look like waves.

It’s very bright out, the sun almost completely down.  The moon overhead is already full and there’s barely a cloud in the sky.

This is a remote part of the Everglades, and even though she just had a long talk with Mack about alligators, she’s decided to go for a walk.

The ground feels a bit squishy beneath her feet, and she’s starting to wonder if this wasn’t her best idea, but then she reaches out with her powers, and senses what is going on all around her.

There are animals, of course, but nothing large and terrifying, _that will hold on and not let go_ , as Mack mentioned.

_“You watched that horror movie, right.”_

_“Alligator?” he nods, finishing up the routine weapons inspection.  “Yeah I watched it.”_

_“I meant the one with the lake.  And Betty White.”_

_“Whatever.  Just be careful out there, okay?”_

He made her promise, and she agreed, so she switches on her flashlight now that she’s far enough away from the plane, listening to the sounds of all the early night creatures singing around her.

Vibrations.

And here she thought she was going to get some quiet from the activity always taking place on the plane: the hum of its engines, the way vibrations carry on when trapped inside small spaces.

There are trees up ahead, and she finds the ground there seems more solid, and brushes her fingers over the nearest trunk. This is a nice spot, with an opening just past the row of trees.

She finds a fallen over trunk and sits down on it, then turns off her flashlight, squinting at the little yellow dot against the tree line.

It’s like a small invasion of delicate, blinking lights, all warm and yellow and making the humid air seem somehow more bearable.

Holding her finger out, she touches one as it nears her, and it flutters out of her way.

It’s all held together by the same thing: vibrations. She can feel all of it.  Even when they were up there, she thinks, raising her eyes to the night sky.

There’s the part of her that knows she should be even more terrified of her own powers.  The way she can vibrate things apart.  Like unmaking something.

Her eyes shut and she concentrates, dampening her own sensitivity.

She doesn’t want to think about herself like that.  Not even human anymore, and-

The noises around her quiet down, and there is something large there now.

She stands up, turns the flashlight on, sweeping the area when she hears the ground crunch nearby.

“Daisy?” he calls out to her.

“Phil,” she answers back, shining the flashlight on his feet up into his face.

He squints and holds his hand out towards it, blocking it, until she shuts it off again.

“Thanks,” he says, sounding a little annoyed while his eyes adjust again to the darkness.

“You know, you shouldn’t wander around out here alone,” she tells him. “Alligators.”

“You've been talking to Mack. I have a robot hand,” he reminds her, stepping closer, checking out the scene.

“So you were going to wrestle an alligator. Nice.”

“If I yelled loud enough, you’d come running,” he teases. 

They haven’t had much time to talk or be alone together since everything ended, and began again, so she guesses that this could be as good a time as any.

She sits back down on the fallen trunk and he joins her and takes a couple of small bottles out of his jacket.

“You raided the mini-bar.” Of the last motel they stayed in between missions.

“I know,” he grimaces. “We really have to find a new place to make base.”

Still, it’s an offer, and she wraps her hand around the bottle and then twists the cap off, throwing it back and drinking it like a shot.

He gives her an amused look and follows suit, then looks around again at all the fireflies crowding them again, and his face changes a little, softens.

“Does this remind you of something?” she asks, curious.

“Summers.  With my parents.  When I’d ride home after being out at the baseball field too late.  I was always supposed to be home before dark.  That was the agreement.”

“Because you were practicing.” It seems like something Phil would do.  Always trying harder to get things right.

“Yes,” he says, looking down for a moment, like he’s not sure if he’s going to share all the way. “And… kissing.”

His eyes move up to hers with a mischievous look in them and she has to laugh at him, which only makes him outwardly smile.

It doesn’t seem too far off, though.  He’s a romantic guy, she knows that.  Even if he doesn’t get the chance to put it to use often enough.

“It was all sort of new and exciting. And then there would be fireflies on the ride home and it was like the world matched what was inside of me.”

That’s a lot of talking for him, she nods, hoping he’ll do more of it.

“Sorry there’s not more,” he says, taking the bottle from her hand, letting his fingers linger on hers, before putting it back in his jacket pocket.

“I can control it,” she starts. “But I feel dangerous. In a way I never wanted to.”

His face falls serious, and he knots his eyebrows as he turns back to her. “I know that feeling.”

He’s talking about Ward, and he _does_ know, it’s just that he can’t vibrate molecules at will.

“You’re not dangerous,” he tells her. “You’re _you_.  You’re a good person, who tries to make the right choices.  Always.”

 _Not a monster._   He’s never believed that about her.  Not from the first moment he knew what she was.  And she feels her face get hot, knows that his eyes are on her, seeking her out.

“I like your stories,” she replies, dragging her eyes up to meet his.  “How you like to connect your past to your present.”

He thinks about what she’s saying for a moment. She thinks she can tell the moment when he gets it.

His hand slides along her neck as he leans into her, and kisses her softly, like this is new and the possibilities are almost overwhelming. Then rests his forehead against hers, drawing short breaths, with his eyes shut.

She slides her hand along his shoulder to pull his body closer to her, mouths meeting again as she kisses him in return, taking her time with it, listening to his little sighs and hums.

It’s a pretty promising first couple of kisses.

“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He looks so sweet and honest when he says it.  It could be a corny line, but it’s not, coming from him.

“And that’s still the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I want you to have nice things,” he says, all heart on his sleeve.

“Me too.”

She leans into him as he wraps his arm around her shoulder, as they sit and watch the fireflies blink on and off.


End file.
